finding the truth.

You lied. Not once,  not twice, but every time you saw me. Every time you opened your mouth, a lie slipped out. I can hear my heart breaking. I thought we had it all. I thought we had something. To my surprise, we have nothing – we had nothing. Ever. It was all a lie. Because you didn’t value me enough for the truth. You didn’t feel I deserved it. No matter how many times I go over it in my head, I can’t make sense of it. 

Of how long I spent on you. Everything I shared. Everything you said to me. Nothing is real, none of that was real. It’s all fake. No matter how many times I keep saying this, how many different ways I say it, the outcome remains to be that you are a liar. Nothing less, nothing more. 

I want to cry. I want to scream. But I can’t. I can’t fathom how to do any of that because all I feel is betrayed. You lied about how you felt for me, who you were and most of all, what we were. There was no we because you aren’t real. 

This is too confusing to explain to anybody. So here I am, left with my own thoughts. Which is more dangerous than ever. I can’t stop picturing your face. I can’t stop feeling your arms around me. You are in my dreams every night – still. You appear in the faces I see on the street, as I take double takes because I have mistaken that person for you. I see you everywhere. You are everywhere. I can’t get away from you. 

I don’t know what to do at this point. I need to get away and run. Run far away from you. You only bring me down. 

Yet, how do I get away from you…if you live in my head. 

i’m never getting over you.

There have been multiple people who have walked into my life, only to walk right back out, what feels like, moments later. It seems to happen often…but this time is different. Whenever someone has walked out of my life, I am usually the one holding the door, holding on to something to remember them by. I watch them leave, but know that I’ll be okay in the long run. I will survive, seeing them on the street or at the grocery store each week. It’s a simple process. They don’t ever stay long enough to etch memories into my brain. The smells, the laughter, the good feelings. All of those good things that turn to bad things in an instant. Few people have caused that to happen to me directly. 

Sure, I feel sad and lonely when people leave…but people always leave. This isn’t a new thing anymore. It is common. But you? You’re not common. You’re new. The feeling I get when I think of you is consuming – it consumes me entirely. I can’t breathe, sleep, eat…do anything without you surfacing to thought. Everything reminds me of you – even when I don’t want it to. I don’t want to think of you, dream of you, see you, talk to you…I don’t want anything to do with you at this point. 

My heart says otherwise, however. 

My heart wants you to lie beside me the whole night, covering my body with yours. My heart wants you to pick me up and kiss me like you once did. My heart wants to consume you, instead of the opposite. It wants what it wants. It’s that cliche fact that the heart wants what the mind doesn’t. Everything about you, my mind rejects. I am stubborn when it comes to you…but my heart doesn’t seem to care. It is because of that very organ that I check your statuses everyday to see what you have been up to, and it is my mind that forces me to close the app before I can send you a message. 

They play for different teams, my mind and my heart. It’s the way it has always been. People say that having a relationship is hard…I would say that not having a relationship is harder. 

But that’s just my mind talking…

playing catch up.

I have always loved to write, read, and get my thoughts out there, whether that’s on the pages within the journal that sits on my bedside table, or this very blog, for all of you to read. But lately, writing has been the hardest thing to do. Writing reminds me of emotion, of relationships, and reading back old posts often bring back many memories, both bad and good. I have been facing this lately. Wanting to write here, wanting to type out my words…but nothing flows and it ends up being a few words saved as a draft, or just a click of the red x in the corner. 

I am surprised that I am even forming enough in my mind to put in this entry at 11:06 PM. I don’t have any updates, I don’t have any new stories to tell you, just the story that is ongoing – that of my single existence. I love to write, as I have said…but what I love most is being proud of an entry that I publish online. 

I like knowing that I wrote something that explained exactly what I was thinking at the time…and these days, that doesn’t happen. My writing isn’t capturing my thoughts in full – does that make sense? I am going to try to do a better job…but I just can’t right now. 

I have to play catch up to my thoughts and feelings before I can get those thoughts and feelings to my fingers.

It’s that simple, right? 

nothing but a stain.

Every day, you roll out of bed, take a five minute shower, dry your hair (not that it looks any better), put on make up and run for the train. Same routine, over and over. It gets so familiar – that routine that you do – that when something interrupts the routine, it comes as a shock. Like you have been splashed with cold water or been burnt by hot coffee…it wakes you up. This process is no different than when an old friend or lover strolls back into your life, making some kind of statement or gesture that shakes up your routine. He is the hot coffee and the cold water mixed into one drink you definitely want to avoid when wearing white.

It can be a hey, a comment, a call, a text…but although it comes in many different forms, it still takes the common form of “unwanted”. It’s unnecessary, and what the most frustrating thing is, is that you almost never stop thinking about it. No matter who or what you distract yourself with, the coffee stings your freshly burnt flesh, and usually leaves a stain on your crisp, white suit. Infuriating, to say the least.

The toughest part of it all? Coffee almost never comes out of a white suit.

another one to let go.

Well, at this point…I’m tired. I am tired physically, emotionally and mentally with everything to do with you. I can’t stand to think about you anymore because it hurts. I don’t understand and I don’t know how to fix the way I feel. Everything seems to be okay, when I am not thinking about you and me and us. Somewhere down the line, something switched and I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what happened. Maybe you lost interest, maybe I said something wrong…but if it is to do with me or something I said…I am glad we are not together. 

Why am I trying to be with someone who doesn’t like the things I say or the things that I do? Why should I change myself to be someone you desire. What is so amazing about your character that makes me want to change my character in the hopes that you will like me? It sounds pretty dumb when I say it like that… I can’t believe how much time I have wasted on you. You are a nice person, I would never wish any harm on you…but it looks as if we don’t mesh. We are not a good fit and I am finished trying to shove this square block into a round hole. It is just not worth it. 

The energy, the thinking, the over-thinking…all of it is so trivial compared to what my life is about. I am young, and carefree and will meet someone some day – maybe that someone is you…but if it were, things would not be this difficult. Relationships are hard and you need to work at them…but we aren’t even in a relationship. Which makes me think of how hard the actual relationship would be once we got involved in one. It makes me crazy to think that I won’t talk to you every day, and see you, and kiss you…but knowing that I might not suffer all this confusion and pain any longer and possibly find the person that doesn’t cause me those feelings…that makes me feel worlds better than I do right now. 

I will always wonder about the possibility – what if I had told you all of this to your face? What if I had made the first move? What if I had just been an independent woman and called you out on ALL of your bullshit? 

That wouldn’t be me though. And besides…if you truly wanted to be with me…you would be with me. I shouldn’t have to give you an ultimatum. Because if it came down to that…me making you choose…you would either resent me, or worse – I would never know if you chose me because you liked me, or because you wanted someone to continue seeing. Relationships are confusing and I am somewhat glad I am not in one – but even more glad that I am beginning the process of letting go of whatever this was between us. 

 

diving into the waters of destiny.

From a very young age, I was exposed to love. I received love from my parents, grandparents, siblings, family friends and everyone who was significant in my life. I was taught how to love and appreciate others – no matter what they did. I grew into an accepting and kind human being, all due to the love that existed in my childhood and throughout my life. As I grew into my adolescence, my perspective began to change. My heart was broken a few times and a few more times after that, tainting my view of relationships and love in general. I have seen the concept of love treated in an extremely arbitrary and casual way. The word lost its meaning throughout my high school years. I became confused as to what love truly was. It was not foreign to me, the concept of loving relatives and people who were close to me. However, when it came to being in love, I didn’t understand. I was surrounded by couples in the hallways, claiming their love for each other, when I didn’t even know what being in love was. I knew my parents were in love and have been since they met. 

Due to all my confusion, feelings and hormones, I started to doubt love. What was it? Does it even exist? How do you measure love? All of these questions clouded my brain, which eventually lead to me questioning my identity. If love does exist, why haven’t I found someone to fall in love with. Although I was young, my brain thought as if it were in it’s late twenties. I had never been in love and had never come close…to being totally and completely  in love. Near the end of high school, a few relationships sparked between me and a select few. It became harder to know what love was, because I had never been in it. I couldn’t measure how to love somebody without thinking too hard about it. There were boys that I was head over heels for, physically attracted to and claimed to be “die hard, in love with” …but was it real? Probably not. 

A few years later, moving on from high school into the world of college, it is still difficult to grasp this concept. Not specifically being in love, but considering that “the one” for me is out there, walking around in the world. It is a scary thought and I don’t know if I technically agree with the notion. Is there only one person for you? Can you find love in many places? I believe that you can. I am not a supporter of “soul mates” strictly because it limits your destiny to one person. I think that is absurd, when we are living in a world that has six billion people. As I get older, I am beginning to realize that people meet in the most abstract ways in which you don’t need an online dating app to secure your happiness for the rest of your life. Get out there, meet people, go to pubs, sporting events, the gym, join a club. Now, as a disclaimer…please note that I have not been successful in meeting “the one” at any one of these places. I have not met him yet, but I strongly believe that I will meet him someday. But there may be multiple “ones” for me, and that is totally fine with me. 

Looking for him has been on my mind lately. I have been picturing my future, even though I am only 19, the future scares me. I like to have everything laid out in front of me – who doesn’t? (A lot of people probably…) Those are my deep thoughts for the night. As I sit in my living room at 12:30 AM, half finished diet coke, with a million tabs open, I am diving into the waters of destiny. 

i’m not playing games anymore.

Call me basic, but I am ‘so over’ these childish relationship games. Aren’t we supposed to be mature adults? Or at least trying to be mature adults? I can’t stand how much older I feel compared to the majority of the male population that set foot on this campus. I don’t like head games…as much as I play them frequently…I cannot claim that I actually like them. Who can admit to that? 

I don’t want to pretend I don’t have feelings like I am a small, scared-of-the-cooties, fourth grader. I am in my second year of college and yet I still feel like I am in the “he-likes-her, but doesn’t want to show her” phase. Grow up and show me that you like me! I know you do…you can’t get enough of me…all the signs are there…but nope, we’re going to first play the silent treatment, than the screw with her mind, and then the cold shoulder just so that you can do a complete 180 and be at my doorstep day and night. 

Because that makes sense. 

Please tell me somebody out there knows what I am talking about with these head games. I should be studying for finals, but I am here wondering why he didn’t answer my text…yet waves to me at the library. WHAT IS UP? I wish I could text him and say…”why aren’t you consistent” …but that would seem almost weird and creepy. When it comes to labels, those labels seem to come up fast, yet the actual, physical relationship label is avoided like the plague. 

Ughh. This is a rough post…but I’ll post it anyways.